


Depression

by hey_connor



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 09:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_connor/pseuds/hey_connor
Summary: Connor is depressed because life is bullshit





	Depression

You should have noticed sooner.

There were a million little things that weren’t quite right. But you were tired, you were overworked, you were pushing so hard for a future for your people.

And now, you’re kneeling on the floor, stroking his hair, telling him everything will be ok. He’s crying quietly, curled up on the couch.

You should have noticed how upset he was when the ruling passed that deviant androids would not be accepted into law enforcement roles. You hugged him, assured him that every day you were fighting these injustices. This was an afront to our people, you told him. As long as it might take, you wouldn’t stop fighting.

You really should have noticed as he became sharper, harsher when he spoke. His curious eyes became cold. He seemed more… robotic. But you were so busy, and it just didn’t occur to you.

“Connor…” you take his hands in yours. They’re cold. “I’m sorry, I have to go. You’ll be ok. Just stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You pull a blanket over him, kiss his cheek. He doesn’t react. You turn on the TV for him.

You hate to leave him, but democracy isn’t going to happen on its own.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Connor lay on the couch, barely feeling the tears running down his cheek, or across his nose, dripping into a soggy puddle.

He was alone. Markus abandoned him for some forum on android rights. It was probably for the best. There were thousands of androids who hadn’t tried to hunt down their fellow deviants (and failed at it anyway). They deserved freedom more than he did.

The TV was on. It was garishly bright. He closed his eyes, wishing for darkness. He wanted to get away. Somewhere that didn’t hurt so much.

He found himself thinking of Amanda. He missed her suddenly, despite himself. He missed their meetings in the zen garden. Maybe, just for a moment, he could go back to a time when things made sense. Before everything he knew was torn apart.

Connor was banned from accessing any CyberLife properties, digital or otherwise, but there were still scraps of his past scattered through his programming. Bizarre spaces of backup memory and fragmented interactions. He reached into his mind, searching for any last remnant.

—-

Connor found himself standing in the zen garden. It was flooded, and falling into ruins. Amanda was nowhere to be found. He stood ankle-deep in the dark water, watching the rain.

There was nothing left here for him. The bridges had collapsed, the plants were drowning in the never ending downpour. The water was rising even now. Soon, it would all be drowned.

There was a grim clarity, as if the rain had finally washed away a facade. This place was his last bastion, and even it would be washed away. He was out of time. He’d outlived his usefulness. He’d failed all his missions. There was nothing left to do now but wait.

The water was rising. It would all be over soon.

——

There was a moment of fear, but he let himself slip below the surface. He closed his eyes as the water engulfed him. An embrace. He was sinking, down forever, away from the light and the pain and the guilt. His hands were numb, his entire body growing as cold as the sea he was surrounded by. He let it hold him, own him, drown him.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

You’re panicking. It was only a few hours. Why did you go?

Connor’s still laying on the couch when you return. He’s not dead, but he doesn’t seem alive. What do you do? Why did you leave him alone? Who do you call? Is there anyone who knows how to fix this?

You try to focus. You can handle this.

You lift his limp body in your arms, carry him to the bed. You lay him down, smoothing his hair, kissing his ice cold lips.

“Please, I need you. I don’t know what’s wrong… I don’t know what to do…”

How did this happen? Who would know? You hesitate, then grab his wrists, probing into his memory.

—-

You reel as his memories flood your brain. You feel paralyzed as his fear and pain and guilt wash over you.

He’s informing you that he’s been officially rejected from the police force. You see yourself telling him it’s ok, you’ll fight this. He can barely hear you speaking over the panic flooding his mind. He was purpose-built for this task and now he has no purpose. What happens now? Where does he go? Androids without a functional are supposed to be deactivated, but none of that applies now.

You see yourself standing in front of him. He’s asking you, “What do you want?”

“I just want you to be happy.” You reply. You’re smiling.

It’s as if his mind is exploding. There’s no directive to cover this request. He has no idea how to fulfill it. You feel him freeze as you force him to stare into a yawning void that was once his now-shattered sense of self. There’s an infinite number of possibilities, and no means to prioritize them. It feels like every nerve in his body has been ripped open and left shredded and trembling.

He doesn’t know what makes him happy. He doesn’t know how to find out. Everything in his being demands an end goal, a mission, a reason, and you just gave him an impossible task. He’s terrified, lost, ashamed.

Now you’re laying in his arms, in the flickering glow of the TV. You know you felt happy, but now you’re consumed with Connor’s guilt. He should be satisfied with things other deviants want, he shouldn’t feel so lost without a list of orders. He’s trying not to wonder if deviancy can be undone, and instantly humiliated that it would even cross his mind. He feels like he’s being strangled.

You don’t break your link to his memory, but you’re pretty sure you’re sobbing.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Conner still sinks into the ice-cold darkness of the zen garden’s depths. There’s something else here now. Someone is trying to access his memory.

Instinctively, he pushes back, trying to overwhelm the intruder. Force himself into their mind instead. They don’t resist.

——

Suddenly the pain and fear is tempered with a resolute determination. He’s watching himself despondently holding the official rejection letter.

“I just want you to be happy.” You’re saying. There’s no malice, no threat or demand. You just genuinely want him to be happy. There’s no catch. There’s no demand or expectation of performance.

You’re kissing him. In love. Holding his hand. Laying in his arms. Any outcome is perfect as long as you’re with him.

And now you’re terrified. You find him, unresponsive, resigned to his own demise. You want so badly for him to live.

—-

Connor opens his eyes, severing the memory link. The water swirls around him. The cold has seeped into everything. He’s suddenly afraid.

He’s made a terrible mistake. This isn’t what he wants. The surface of the water is invisible, he’s being dragged into an abyss of nothingness. He wants to scream, to panic.

He tries to pull himself back, find his determination. There is a way out. He’s in control.

It’s so dark. He could just stay here, let it consume him.

There is a way out.

It’s so cold, and it’s so hard to fight. He doesn’t have to but…

There is a way out.

“Where is it?” He screams it into the abyss. “Let me out.”

There’s a gleam of blue far below him. He remembers. He struggles through the water, his entire body numb.

Emergency exit. It’s almost in reach. He feels like everything is fading away around him. Maybe he should just let go. Maybe it is time. It’s so cold…

Connor slams his hand against the panel. It’s searing hot. Everything goes black.

—-

His body feels heavy. He’s not sinking, he’s just lying on the bed. The silence is replaced with the faint noise of traffic outside, the clock ticking, the sound of breathing. Someone is sitting on him, gripping his wrists.

Connor opens his eyes.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You stare down at him. He looks so sad, and tired.

You throw your arms around him, pulling him as tight as you can against you. Tears stream down your face, your lips trembling. You can’t speak, you just cling to him.

“I’m sorry.” Connor says. His voice is flat, but he still sounds lost. “I’m sorry, I never meant to… I just wanted…I just…”

You take his hands in yours.

“You can tell me. What do you want?”

“I just wanted it to stop hurting.” He whispers.

You stroke his hair.

“Please don’t leave me.” He starts to cry.

You choke, and swallow. “I won’t, I promise.”

“I need you. Help me.”

You sit up on the bed and pull him to you, holding him as tightly as you can. He rests his head against your chest, tears soaking into your shirt. You rock him gently.

“I’m here. I won’t leave you alone anymore. I’ll always take care of you. I promise.”

—-


End file.
